My name is Esme. I’m 18. I’m at that strange age where I’m not yet a woman, but I’ve already outgrown being a girl. I don’t just discover myself — I invent myself, like a character from a book I haven’t written yet. I try new things not to find what I like, but to find what I’m not afraid of anymore.

My Wish List — or the things I want before I turn 20 and become "responsible." ✦ Buy a one-way ticket somewhere — anywhere — just to feel the weight of freedom in my hand. Even if I'm back in a week. The point is that I could stay. ✦ Jump with a parachute and scream so loudly that the clouds apologise for getting in my way. ✦ Learn to say "no" without explaining myself. Just "no." Full stop. Then walk away like I've just won an argument with myself. ✦ Get lost in a foreign city with no map, no data, no plan. And find my way back using only my gut and the kindness of strangers. ✦ Learn a new language — not to be fluent, but to be beautifully silent in it. To understand secrets whispered in crowds and smile knowingly. ✦ Find a pair of jeans that fit perfectly on the first try (yes, I know — ambitious). ✦ And most importantly — become the kind of person who has stories, not just photos. Who lives, not just exists. Who makes mistakes, but owns them like trophies.

I collect scents. Not perfumes — memories. The smell of rain on hot asphalt. Old paper in a library. Freshly cut grass in the summer. Woodsmoke from a fireplace I've never owned. I have little jars with dried herbs, spices, and petals — and every evening I open one, close my eyes, and let it take me somewhere else. It's my favorite form of time travel. I also love walking at night. The city looks different after midnight. Softer. More honest. I walk without music, without a destination. I watch the way windows glow in the dark and wonder about the lives behind them. Sometimes I stop and just listen — to the wind, to distant cars, to my own footsteps. It's my meditation. When I'm home, I create playlists. Not for parties — for moods. I have playlists for rainy days, for sleepless nights, for the moment just before dawn. My hobbies are my rituals. They don't have to be productive. They just have to be mine. They keep me grounded. Curious. Open. And that's all I need.

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